BattleShip at Night
by Sarasusamiga
Summary: Kaiba verbally skewers hungry Jounouchi. Will Jounouchi retaliate? One-shot. Shounen-ai suggestiveness.


Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! and its characters are not mine to make money from, which is why my obsession with the series earns me nothing but late hours and scrambled brains. It's Kazuki Takahashi who is entitled to the big bucks.

Author's Note: Seto POV. This story draws on the anime rather than the manga version of events, and is set between Kaiba's duel with Isis/Ishizu and the start of the Noa arc. 

The flow of the story feels a bit choppy to me (although you'll see some reason for it by the end). Any suggestions for smoothing it out?  I'm also worried that Kaiba's voice may be somewhat OOC. In justification, I do imagine Kaiba being more honest with himself (about some things!) than he's able to be with the world at large.

Title: BattleShip at Night  
Rating: PG-13 

Category: Psychological/Drama. One-shot.  
Pairings: J/K…   
Summary: Kaiba verbally skewers hungry Jounouchi. Will Jounouchi retaliate?  
Warnings: A dash of sexual suggestiveness and shounen-ai.  
Spoilers: Glancing references to BattleShip Arc events.

_BattleShip at Night_

I jerk awake, gaze up at the monitors. So tired. . .

The mystery behind the Ra God Card has absorbed me since earlier today, when I finally saw the image Mokuba was able to capture.  It's absorbed me completely, as though all my internal systems kicked into autopilot when this new, odd ability of mine to decipher glyphs came to the fore.

Drained me too, because of what I found myself reading. Horrible.  A corruption of the beauty of God Cards, of the purity of DuelMonsters.

I will not believe it. 

*

Behind me, there's a sudden thunk and a muffled string of curses.

A quick glance to my right assures me that Mokuba, tucked beneath my duster in a neighboring chair, has not stirred.

I swing my chair around to face the intruder. "Well, if it isn't the puppydog, out for his walkies."

He visibly swallows down a retort. Impressive self-control, for him. 

I turn back to the computer and continue clicking through search results.

"There had better be a reason you've come in here," I toss back over my shoulder.

Still no answer.

I turn again to look at him. The fool is blushing. "I--well, the thing is, I figured ya might have a snack machine or something somewhere on this ship." 

I snort.

His voice acquires an edge. "I know there must be a kitchen somewhere, Kaiba. I'm willing to pay ya for the food, but I'm hungry, damnit!" His voice rises. 

"Quiet!" I hiss, jerking my head in Mokuba's direction.

The other looks toward the chair where my brother's sleeping. "That don't look comfortable. Shouldn't he be in a real bed? Ya didn't skimp on a bed for him?"

"Of course he has one," I snap. "He just happens to have fallen asleep here."

"And you were too busy to send him to bed. I see." 

"Mind your own business!" I surge to my feet, but still keep my voice lowered. The blond steps back just a little.

I hesitate, then bend over the chair and scoop up Mokuba. He murmurs but doesn't waken. I carry my burden through the side door to our cabin.

When I come back in, the intruder hasn't moved. He's blinking at me at though utterly confounded.

"With a dazed look like that, maybe you need medical care rather than food. Or--what am I thinking? That vacuous expression is your normal one." I see him stiffen again; good, he understands the tone if not the term.

"I asked you a question, Kaiba, I wanna straight answer." 

I settle into my chair. "You'd have saved yourself this entire conversation if you'd checked the buttons in your cabin. There's one for room service." 

The pup looks riled again. "An' I'm supposed to call on yer staff like I want a four-course meal or something? You overdo everything!"

It occurs to me, suddenly, that I am spending precious time on this little entertainment. Time to end the disruption. Turning back to the keyboard, I say, "Fine. There's a refrigerator and pantry by the door where you came in. Help yourself."

There is no movement behind me for a few beats--he's probably wrestling with his pride--but appetite wins out. I smirk to myself at the rustling of wrappers and clanking of plates, followed by crunching, lip-smacking and general sounds of gluttony. 

* 

". . . Kiisama!"

"What makes you so sure Yuugi wants your help?"

"Damn you, of course he does!"

"My, such confidence. But proxies always take a bit of risk, especially unauthorized proxies. Suppose I were to buzz his room and invite him to join our chat? Would the 'Pharaoh' appreciate the distraction from tomorrow's duels? Something tells me *he* hardly cares if people make fun of him. Your little friend has his eye on bigger things than that. Perhaps you could learn from him. Or are you already past the age to be taught new tricks?"

"You've gone too friggin' far this time, Kaiba. Insult me all ya want--I'm tougher'n anything you can throw at me. But Yuugi don't deserve yer abuse."

"And what? You think you can growl me into submission? Maybe nip at my heels like a sheepdog?"

"Don't tempt me, asshole."

"Hn, did I hear something yipping?"

"You asked for it!"

"Get--your--paws--off--me! Or do you want me to shove your muzzle into the floor?"

"I'd like ta see ya try, Kaiba-chan!...Ah, nice try. But we fight differently on the streets." 

The blood flees my cheeks as I stare up at his face, surrounded by a golden fall of hair.  How could I have let myself get into this situation--my wrists pinned to the floor, him crouched beside me, triumphant? I have to get away from him, from that laughter. Maybe a jab with the knee. . .

He doesn't even look behind him, simply throws his own bent leg over mine, flattening them just as I start to move. 

"What are ya going to do about this, Kaiba?" 

"I'll make you sorry!" I hiss with what's left of my breath. He's so close. . .

"No," he says, seeming to savor the syllable, "I think I'll make *you* sorry. And I got just the thing..." He grins his cocky gambler's grin, and lowers his face so it's a few inches from mine. 

"Ya seem to have something against dogs, Kaiba. How about this?" He drops his head further, so his mouth is next to my ear. I pull my head away--he moves closer, seeming to swallow a laugh, then suddenly. . .a blast of hot air hits my ear. He's panting, furiously as a retriever after a run in the park.

"Damnit!" I writhe beneath him. His lips are practically on my ear as he continues to pant into it, but finally, laughter takes him over, and he chortles helplessly. My chance?

I jerk roughly, but immediately the prisoning hands are as tight as ever on my forearms.  He looks down at me again, eyes bright and cruel. 

"Lessee, shall I bark? What'd your staff think if they found you like this?"

"That I'm being--inexplicably assaulted by--by one of the guests--"

"I dunno about that, Kaiba. Seems like ya have a thing for dogs after all." Relentlessly, he lowers his body onto mine. It's all too obvious what he's referring to. I wince and turn my face away. *I do not like this. I cannot like this.*

"Get--off--"

I despise myself for the note of pleading that's crept into my voice, and more still for my body's betrayal. 

"Oh, I'm sure ya don't wanna miss the finale. Close yer eyes--imagine yerself coming home from a long day at KaibaCorp--ya open the door and zoom! Your big ol' Labrador comes at ya, knocks you down, and gives you a long, loving--"

My terrified eyes fix on Jounouchi's lips. They smile wickedly, then part as his red tongue darts out. "Liiiick," he breathes, and swipes his tongue-tip from the base of my chin across my cheek, my eyelashes, my eyebrow, my forehead--then down the other side of my face.

A gesture as disgusting as he is.

I can't let this pass!

With strength born of utter desperation, I gather myself internally, free one arm from a surprisingly slackened grip--

And compound my own defeat by flinging the arm around his neck and drawing his hateful mouth down to mine.

And he--

*

I'm knocked awake again by a slight tremor around me as the blimp changes course. I sit bolt upright in my chair. One hand lifts to my entirely dry face.

*Didn't it--was this all a--" Almost fearfully, I spin the chair around. There are food wrappers stuffed into the wastebasket beside the fridge, wet dishes in the drainer by the adjacent sink.

A gentle huffle from the other room alerts me to Mokuba's sleeping presence there.

Biting my lip, I turn back to the computer--and find a scrawled note stuck between the keys. 

*Thanks.

*You got good eats. 

*If you're gonna fall asleep in front of the computer, why don't you have a blanket in here or a cot or something?

*Jounouchi Katsuya

(yes, I got a name)*

My hand drops from the paper to the duster he's tucked around me. 

Somehow, the idea of him leaning over my sleeping self rattles me more than any of the nonsense my subconscious came up with. 

And what if I said something--or my body did--while I was asleep?

I throw my coat to the ground, stalk to the door, and lock it with a savage gesture.

1/15/04 draft


End file.
